


And I did it, all of it, for you.

by SupernaturalDreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode s10e09, Hurt, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Loss, Loss of Grace, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s10e09 The Things We Left Behind, Sad, Self-Sacrifice, Stolen Grace, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalDreamer/pseuds/SupernaturalDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Castiel's grace fadeing, The Mark beggining to take effect on Dean and Sam thrown in at the deep end with the task of keeping all three of them above water, things are not looking good for the self proclaimed "Team Free Will" and as a general rule with being in the life; sacrifices will be made as a new enemy surfaces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ...Where should I begin?

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins after the events of Season 10 Episode 09. In theory this story probably won't be hardcore-plotless Destiel, or "oh I suddenly realized I've loved you forever, wanna make out with me now?" destiel (don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to that or anything! I just figured it might be a nice change for people looking for fanfiction) . I was sort of aiming for a could-be-real or a no-exactly-implausible thing, so basically I will be trying to stay true to their characters, buuuut this still is a Destiel themed fanfic so don't give up hope just yet!

Castiel stood, rooted to his place, with Claire wrapped in his arms. His eyes tore from one body to the next. Dead, all of them; mercilessly killed by the broken shell of a man knelt in front of Sam Winchester. The words from only a moment before burnt in the still air, or perhaps it was the silence that stung the most.

"Dean. Dean, hey. Tell me you had to do this." Sam had begged as he fell to his knees in front of his brother.

"I didn't- I didn't mean to." Dean's response was thick with confusion or devastation, it was difficult to distinguish.

"No. Tell me; it was them or you." Sam demanded, but Castiel knew that there was no point- this was Dean and these beings where human; killing them, no matter how vile, was unnecessary.

Castiel turned towards the door and lead Claire outside and straight to the Impala, he opened the back door only to find it slammed shut again, he looked at the girl's foot as it descended quickly to the ground.

"No. I'm not getting in that car, you can't make me!" She cried and struggled a few feet out of Castiel's grip and turned around to face him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.

"How could you!?"

"Claire, those men- they were not good-"

Castiel raised his arm as he tried to explain, she flinched at the gesture.

"So what? They were human Castiel." She spat, "You’re an angel. Angels are supposed to protect humans." Claire said in protest.

Castiel sighed "Angels exist to do God's bidding; we are warriors, we're not here to protec-"

"I don't care Castiel." she screamed, the tears coming down in torrents now.

"Randy is dead because you decided to 'Help' and all you can say is that it was god's work?" she growled accusingly. Castiel was left speechless. He knew that this was not God's will, that wasn't what he had meant but somehow admitting that Dean had lost control to someone that wouldn't understand his circumstance seemed unjust.

"Take me back." She ordered.

Castiel nodded and reached for the car door again.

"I said I won't get in there. You can fly, take me back like that." She said, stubbornly crossing her arms.

"I- I can't." He admitted.

She looked unconvinced, weary even, as though he might be lying about it.

"You mean you won't." It was a statement, a declaration even. As though there was no way he could be telling her the truth.

"No, I mean; I can't." Castiel corrected her simply. "You weren’t wrong though. I used to be able to." He admitted as he opened the car door for the third time.

She looked skeptical, "Used to? What you can't now?"

"No. I- my Grace; it's failing. If I use too much I won't be able to replenish it."

Claire couldn't help but smirk at that. This Angel that had ruined so much of her life was becoming just some average guy in a brown coat, less than average even; because he had absolutely no life skills what so ever.

"So you're becoming human, welcome to the rest of the world." She mocked.

"It's not that simple, once my Grace fades I die. There is no second chance, and I don't have a soul so Heaven is out of the question."

Claire was shocked, all those years spent convincing herself that she didn't even care that Castiel might already be dead, in fact some days she'd wished for it. But now, after seeing him again and after he'd saved her from that man... she hadn't been so certain. He'd even held her tightly when she'd screamed.

She glanced cautiously at the hand that seemed to be gesturing for her to get in then back up at his face, her father's face, Jimmy Novak... But Castiel had said straight up; her Father was gone. But this expression... she thought to herself, is human isn't it? The Castiel she had met was just as he had described... a warrior whose only purpose was to make everyone's life miserable. I was right, he has changed... but that doesn't make him human, he probably doesn't even really care that Dean killed those men, killed- she couldn't bring herself to think of his name. He feels guilty, that's all. He doesn't have emotions...right?

After a long pause she swallowed her stupid worries.

"I won't get in the car if that guy is. He's a monster." She decided.

"Claire-" Castiel began with a sigh, but he was interrupted by a deep, gritty voice from behind him.

"She's right Cas. I am a monster, I can't just turn it off." Dean agreed numbly. Sam was close behind, he seemed on edge, as though he was getting ready to catch Dean if he suddenly collapsed or something.  
He isn't well. Castiel thought as he watched the man stumble to a slow halt. Hasn't he been through enough? Haven't they all? He won't be able to survive this much longer. Dean was hanging on by a thread, and everyone could see it.

"Dean-" Castiel began, this time it wasn't Dean that interrupted, this time Sam spoke over them both.

"Both of you, shut up." He said before he turned to address Jimmy's daughter. "Claire, listen; I'm sorry about what happened. Hell, everybody is. We understand that they didn't deserve that, believe me, we do. But you've got to understand; those people, Randy, they weren't good people. You know exactly what would have happened if Cas hadn't shown up when he did and you know Randy let it happen." He waited for her to respond, when she didn't he decided it was safe to continue.

"Randy sold you out to clear his debt. He didn't care about you, he was using you!"

"How am I supposed to believe you?" She argued, her expression was full of disgust.

"He looked after me when no-one else would!"

"You were safe at the youth home. They looked after you" Sam argued.

"Are you kidding me?! You have no idea what it's like."

"Okay, okay. You're right, I don't. But I'm not wrong about those men Claire. You know I'm not, right?"

Claire was silent for a long time but eventually the cold got to her, she walked up to the car muttering "Just take me back."

Sam glanced at Castiel as if to say "Well, that's that part out of the way." Castiel replied with a quick grateful nod.

Sam put dean in the passenger seat, he then went around to the driver’s side.

Meanwhile Castiel got in the back next to Claire. The windows of the crowded car soon steamed up, with their breath fogging in the cold night air.

"Your cold." Castiel pointed out as he began taking off his overcoat. It was true the young girl's whole body was shaking violently due to the temperature.

"I'm fine." She said stubbornly.

"No. You’re not." He said as he held the coat out to her. She seemed ready to refuse again, but her only reason would be because she wanted to be stubborn to prove that she could still do what she wanted, but at the end of the day she really was cold whether it was because it was night time or whether it was the after-shock of what she'd seen, she didn't know... but she was smarter than she was stubborn and she roughly snatched the coat from Castiel and tucked herself in; resting her head on the window.

The coat was cold considering the fact that Castiel never takes it off. Doesn't angel's blood run? I'm pretty sure my blood was running when the angel Castiel took me over... Claire wondered absently. Oh... I was actually alive then, but he already said didn't he? That my dad was ripped apart and that now his soul is in some brilliant corner of heaven... where I guess he doesn't need to care about the trouble I'm in. Her eyes wondered to the blurry reflection of Castiel in the Impala's window, she wiped a small patch of the condensation away so that she could see more clearly. She would have liked to think that if he wasn't really saying anything and she was only looking at this distorted image of him, she could almost convince herself that this was Jimmy Novak; her dad, sat behind her. But the truth was; it didn't remind her of her father at all. 

She let her gaze fall on the reflection of the passenger seat. Dean was deadly quiet, and try as she might, Claire couldn't find that evil red glint in his eyes, and there was no evil smirk or giggle at the memory of the massacre. Instead the handsome man simply looked drawn out and tired, maybe not physically tired more like he was just done with all the crap he had to go through on a daily biases.

Claire closed her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out the image. She didn't want to know that the man that single-handedly just tore apart her family had his own battles to face. She didn't want to know that he regretted it, or that he hadn't meant to. Because she was desperately trying to look for something to hate and to blame for this whole screwed up situation. Eventually she fell to sleep, but her dreams were far from peaceful.

*** [I'm not that fast at writing so by the time I continue from here, the episodes will already contradict what I write. So from here on out this will be totally based on my Imagination. Sorry if you wanted a legit storyline based Fanfiction. (which would kind of contradict the point of me writing a fanfiction ╮(╯▽╰)╭ Well, here goes nothing, and I hope you enjoy.]***

_______________________

The story continues after episode 10 and will thus not include the storyline of any episodes post "The Hunting Games" unless I state otherwise.

_______________________

***

Sam and Dean were sat around the table when Castiel walked in.

"How'd it go?" Dean asked as Cas approached their table.

"It went well. I think." He said with a smile that somehow suited him, but at the same time was something alien; like it didn't really belong there or at least didn't seem to make sense given the situation.

"That's great. At least something's going well for someone. Of course that person happens to be the one that called a hit on me." Dean said sarcastically as he took a swig of his beer.

"Dean-" Cas began but was quickly cut off by Dean.

"Nevermind Cas, I get it. Hell, it's the least I deserve." Dean said as he put the empty bottle down and stood up. Castiel sighed.

"Well, I messed up our shot with Metatron so now what?" Dean asked looking from Sam to Castiel in turn.

Sam stood up slowly, cautious of the fact that what he was about to say could seriously annoy his brother, which at  present was the last thing anyone wanted to do.

"It's like Cas said; Metatron was the only way we could figure this out. Even if we could find the demon tablet, with no prophet there's no way we could read it anyway." Sam explained carefully.

Dean looked shocked. Moments went by as he seemed to be trying to figure out whether he had heard that correctly. "So your saying we just give up?!"

"No. All I'm saying is you just went up against two people who tried to kill you and you let them go. Maybe I was right before. Maybe you can beat this curse, like Cain did."

"Or-" Dean said slowly.

"Or what Dean." Sam asked, his tone sharp. Sam could see what was coming; some stupid comment that wouldn't be helpful at all.

Dean continued. "-Or I don't beat this. And I watch- trapped in this meat suit, my meat suit as I loose everyone I ever cared about. Again." Sam scoffed in annoyance, shaking his head he turned around and started walking towards the kitchen.

"I'm getting a refill, you want one?"

"Tempting." Dean said but quickly shook his head. "Sammy I'm going to have to give some stuff up if I'm going to try to deal with this crap." Sam stopped and turned around to look at Dean.

"Give what up?" He looked baffled.

"I'm going to have to go full out priest for this one-" Dean started checking off a list on the fingers of his left hand. "- that means no beer, red meat no chicks."

"Riiight. So you basically have to stop being you? Dean you literally just checked off your entire personality in three things. And since when don't priests eat red meat or drink beer?" Sam pointed out as he watched Dean make this list that seemed ridiculous. As far as the mark was concerned alcohol Sam could understand but red meat And chicks? The idea that a) that would even have an affect and b) he could even do any of that was stupid.

Sam scoffed and shook his head. Looking around he was surprised to see that Castiel was gone. When did he leave? Sam thought to himself as his eyes slowly scanned around the ajoined room, as though Castiel was probably just stood quietly in some corner or something.

"Dean, where'd Cas go?" Sam asked conversationally. 

"What? Oh." He glanced around lazily. "I don't know, it's Cas. He probably had something to do, or maybe he got bored." Dean suggested.

He sat down across from Dean at the table and with a sigh he tucked himself closer to the table, placed his beer by the side of his laptop and began scrolling through page after page of information about Cain. The silence was deafening. Dean slowly finished his last beer (in theory) and watched as his brother tried desperately to find some new hope.

" Sam." The long haired man looked up, frowning.

"What?" He asked, suddenly concerned by the seriousness in Dean's voice.

"I just wanted to let you know, that even if I do go dark side... I won't hurt anyone. I won't hurt you."

Sam was still for a long time trying to work out what Dean meant. Eventually he gave in and slowly, eyes narrow, he asked

"What do you mean 'even if I go dark side I  won't hurt anyone.' Dean that is dark side. If you don't hurt anyone then you have gone there yet." Sam explained.

"What I'm saying is that I have a backup plan for if I do turn. Which makes it impossible for me to hurt anyone." Dean summarised in an attempt to at least sort of reassure Sam because for Dean it was a no-brainer; the worst situation and the thing they where trying to avoid was Dean turning into the next Cain and hurting innocent people. Obviously he knew Sam wouldn't like the plan, but the end was definitely worth it right? Sam glanced at the drink Dean had just finished like he thought his brother might have overdosed or something.

"What plan, Dean? What have you done?" Sam was clearly starting to panic now.

_____________


	2. What Have You Done?

 

Castiel drove for hours it seemed; the night felt cold to him despite the fact that the thermometer suggested otherwise. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat, confident in the fact that the road ahead of him was long and perfectly straight so the possibility of accidentally veering off course was highly unlikely.

  
_Is this what it feels like to be human?_ He suspected not.

On numerous occasions he had heard the Winchesters complaints about the heat being almost too much to handle at times today was no different.

It had already been around a week or two -he lost track- since Castiel was last in the Men of Letters bunker and despite his new-found/borrowed/stolen grace he was already beginning to feel his angelic strength weaken. Now he was left with a numb, throbbing ache of the fading grace (which, to begin with, was far inferior to his original), like a bad reminder that he was only alive because another Angel was dead, the fact that it wasn't he himself that committed the murder gave him little comfort.

Opening his eyes slowly Castiel looked out of the window as the trees flew bye, the sun was beginning to rise now and so he suspected he had probably been driving a lot longer than he had originally assumed. Soon the car informed him with its little LED lights that he had successfully depleted its store of gas. He grunted disapprovingly before pulling over to park on the edge of the road and got out leaving the car door open to replaced the air inside with fresh damp air of the early morning.

He stood for long time in silence, just staring into the wood ' _I'll just wait here then.'_ Castiel swayed slightly at the unbidden memory and to steady himself he placed his hand against the nearest tree trunk. The morning dew quickly coated the skin of his palm. The bark was rough; hundreds of years of overlapping sheets pressed tightly together. Looking deep into the forest he could see that it was filled with wild flowers all of which were decorated with tiny diamond-like beads of moisture that reflected light in thousands of different directions and threw a billion different colours around. And as he watched in the clean silence, without the buzz of the modern world, he could see the insects beginning to wake and drag themselves from their various homes and, not for the first time, he mused over how young it all seemed, specifically now that he felt old.

' _Did I always feel like that?'_ The answer was simple: No. He had not always felt old, quite the contrary actually, in comparison to a few of his brothers he had felt somewhat young (although they themselves by now where not _much_ older than himself, in the grand scheme of things) But then again before he had met the Winchesters he had never really had any reason to care about age. But now...now he wasn't so certain he could continue to ignore it.

Sam and Dean wouldn't really have registered it, most likely, because they are never really away from each other, but Castiel (who only saw them briefly and only when they needed something, and even those occasions were few and far between) could see the difference: they had aged, and he had not. It didn't take a genius to work out where that would end: they would cure Dean at any and all cost and then the brothers would continue to age, together, and Castiel? Castiel would stand and watch, silent as he always had been. Soon enough the Winchesters would ascend to heaven (Castiel could be sure of that, he would MAKE it possible, one way, or another.) and he would remain on Earth, unable -in his fallen state- to return to heaven...even to see them.

He was briefly removed from his dark thoughts as he watched as two emerald green beetles rolled around on a high up leaf. One had a red patterning on it the other a paler green. Next to them another bug, brown this time; larger than the other two but at the same time more mellow and less energy, stood watching and occasionally trying (it seemed to Castiel) to break up the fight.

Castiel was transfixed on the fight which for some reason held an unreasonable amount of his attention and after a few minutes he realized he had become emotionally invested in the outcome.

He knew with some amount of certainty which of the insects he wanted to win.

But he was surprised when neither really did as a jet black bug hurtled down (just as the green-red one seemed to be getting the upper hand) knocking both over the edge. Instinctively he extended his arm and caught two of the three beetles; looking down he realized he had caught the emerald-lightgreen bug as well as the pitch black one. The red-green beetle had fallen to its death in a pool of murky water. He brought the remaining two up to eye level for a moment to examine them.

The green one appeared wounded after its long struggle, whilst the black one lay motionless. Dead, it would appear.

... It won't be till much later that Castiel grows to understand why he had cared so much about the incident, but he was beginning to register it's significance...

Castiel used a small amount of his grace to fix the bug, he discarded the opal corpse of the other- which landed, forgotten, on a smooth pebble; the glossy casing on its back cracked on impact revealing tattered and torn wings. He then let the victorious beetle sit on the dash of the car, soon after the larger bug joined it. Castiel smiled briefly.

"Anything I can help you with?" A voice from behind him asked. Castiel was shocked to find that someone had managed to approach him unnoticed, so he swung around; Angel blade in hand.

"Whoa, Big guy! Didn't mean to scare you, I just thought you might be lost 'is all." The man backed away slowly, reaching subtly towards the back of his belt.

"Don't do this." Castiel growled in warning. He voice was husk and gravely from lack of use, absently he wondered when the last time he had used it was. It seemed like such a long time, but then it couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks and in times gone by he would sometimes go years without saying a word. _'You've gone soft Cassy!'_ Balthazar's voice, or a memory of it, echoed mockingly in his head. He swayed again as a new wave of nausea hit him, he steadied himself and set his gaze on the man in front of him. He was tired and short tempered so his expression was as far removed from 'friendly' as you could get.

"Okay, you got it!" The man said as he quickly withdrew his hand from where it had traveled. He was now stood with both hands in the air, his expression tight with fear.

"What do you want from me?" The Angel demanded and the man backed up against his pick-up truck.

"Nothing, I seriously just wanted to check whether you were doing OK. I swear!" In a show of faith the man seemed to have an idea. "Hey, hey. See look, I'll take my gun out an' I'll put it on the truck so you know for sure I ain't gonna touch it."

"Gun?" Castiel asked, confused for a moment as to why an enemy would be brandishing a gun against an Angel of The Lord. Even in his weakened state that would still do very little against him. The man paused for a moment; a look slowly forming on his face- like he was beginning to realize that he might have misinterpreted Castiel meaning and therefore accidentally given away the fact that he had in his possession a better weapon than this rough-looking Angel.

  
_'He's just a human.'_ Castiel thought with some amount of relief. He lowered the blade and sighed to himself.

"No. Keep your weapons. I need gas, my vehicle it-... it stopped working." He explained whilst gesturing lazily at the car.

"Gas? Yeah, sure I got plenty as you can have. I was just on my way back from gettin' some." The man seemed tense and although he did go to retrieve fuel he never once let his guard down.

Soon the car was back up and running with all the kinks that Castiel had missed ironed out. _'Sam and Dean would have noticed those a long time ago, before they became an issue.'_ He mused to himself. After that the man was on his way, parting now on better terms than they had been not so long ago.

Castiel stopped several times after that, to help people he told himself and partly it was... but Castiel would be lying if he didn't say that a large part of it was to take his mind away from the boys.

Castiel's phone rang shockingly loud in his pocket and he fumbled to get to it in time. Once he had it in hand he glanced down at the bright screen and frowned before stopping the car and leaning heavily against the seat with his head rested as far as it could go, his striking blue eyes fixed on the roof of the vehicle. The call died and Castiel looked back at the mobile;

[1 MISSED CALL: Sam]

Immediately it started again and the Angel grudgingly answered.

"Sam-" he began but was quickly cut off.

"Cas, man, I've been calling you!" The younger of he two brothers stated in his usual worried tone which coincidentally was often the only tone Castiel got to hear.

"And I answered. What is it?" His voice was a low drawl down the receiver, thick with weariness.

" Yeah, about Damn time! You know what, forget it. I called to ask you whether you knew anything about Dean's _'plan'_ 'cause he says he has one and it doesn't sound good. Before you ask, no he hasn't told me what it is." Sam explained.

Castiel's whole body went ridged, eyes suddenly wide and alert focused straight in front of him, his breath caught in his throat and he searched for the right words to say.

"No. He hasn't said anything to me about a plan. Is... Is he doing okay?" He answered carefully.

"I see. Yeah he's -um- he's doing fine Cas, just... don't worry about it, we'll find a way to remove the mark somehow. We always do." There was a long, awkward pause in which none of them spoke or moved. "Anyway, I'll call if I need anything. Look after yourself. Bye." The phone went dead.

The following silence was uncomfortable. A plan? The tight feeling in his chest assured him he knew _exactly_ what that plan was, and he hated it more than an Angel should.

The memory was painfully vivid:

_Dean came out of his brief daze and looked at the Angel with an almost strained expression._

_"Cas I need you to promise me something." Concerned Castiel leant forward, resting his elbows on the diner table._

_"Ofcourse." He waited patiently for the man to continue._

_"If I do go dark side you gotta take me out." Castiel frowned in confusion, not sure he had understood correctly._

_"What do you mean?" He asked._

_"Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the friggin' Sun. Whatever." He paused. " And don't let Sam get in the way-" he said as he raised a finger to further stress his point. "-because he'll try." He glanced away and, shaking his head, he continued. "I can't go down that road again man." Castiel made to say something but couldn't think of anything._

_"I can't be that thing again." Dean finished._

"Your plan? To have me kill you? And you assume I'll agree." He growled, to nothing and no-one in particular. He hadn't answered Dean that day so he wasn't sure what his friend had taken away form the conversation but for some reason Dean had assumed his answer was 'yes' as if it was that easy.

Castiel couldn't understand his own fury towards the situation. _Things were simpler when I was just an Angel._ He thought to himself. Then it struck him: just an Angel? _Then what am I now? I'm not human and I'm not like my brothers. So what am I?_

He started the engine in a hurry to block out his thoughts and continued down the highway. Glancing at the map on the seat next to his he looked at the road he was headed down and vaguely he realized he had come full circle... The road would lead him straight back to the bunker.

Castiel was going home. He just didn't know whether it was _HIS_ home.

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly this isn't finished, and I do intend to write more chapters. But I would be so grateful if everyone that reads this could please give their feedback so far. Every comment is appreciated. Thank you.


End file.
